


The Cover: Found Footage

by rixinaugust



Series: Pulled From The Pit [1]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe, BAMF Chiron, Backstory, Child Neglect, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Did I say Unreliable Narrator, Drug Abuse, Fix-It of Sorts, Human Trafficking, Kidnapping, Morally Ambiguous Character, Not Canon Compliant, Not What It Looks Like, Paranoia, Pre-Canon, Sally Jackson is a Good Parent, Unreliable Narrator, also, because that bit is important, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:48:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29393634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rixinaugust/pseuds/rixinaugust
Summary: December, 1987The balance of the modern world is held by three people. Three people who will not hesitate to lie, to steal, to kill. This is the beginning of the story they devise. (To change the world is to change the lives of those who live on the edge of it.)
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: Pulled From The Pit [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2159211
Kudos: 1





	The Cover: Found Footage

**2005**

The video starts off with a black-and-white photograph. In the center stands a woman, tall and regal. Her light-colored hair is tied back in a tight bun, neatly brushed away. She wears a traditional governess dress. There is no background music, instead, a sinking familiarity of silence. 

“My mother,” the narrator begins, “has never been the most forthcoming of women.” 

Behind her skirt, a small face peaks out. The child is young, likely no older than five. Despite their age, the child’s face portrays just as much sternness as the older woman. The child is mostly obscured from view. They are outside - in front of a fountain, perhaps. Ferns approach on the edges of the photograph. 

“At least, I presume she is my mother. She gave me no name of her own, no name to call my own. Number 7, she called me, in the rare times she spoke. She did not - does not - speak much.” 

“Your mother is alive?” Another voice asks. The screen fades to black.

White words float through the darkness. ‘ _ Inside America’s largest Greco-Roman human trafficking ring,’  _ they read. “I have no reason to believe otherwise.” 

The scene changes again, this time brightening as two women appear, their heads out of the camera shot. One wears an orange cardigan, the other a white sweater. The walls behind them are a patient yellow, the kind of yellow more at home in a therapist’s office than a photography studio. 

“It started with your mother?” The woman in the white sweater asks. A caption identifies her as Coleen Sol, journalist. 

“No.” The narrator, the woman in the orange cardigan, says. “It started long before my mother. It started… we have reason to believe it started back in ancient Greece.”

“That far.” Coleen says, a statement of disbelief more than a question.

“That far.” 

“Does it make much difference, knowing how it started?”

The narrator laughs briefly. “No. Or, at least, I presume it wouldn’t, if I knew how it started. See, the thing is that when history goes back that far, the specifics begin to get muddled. The most I know is that it goes back that far. Anything more is nothing but guesswork.” 

“So how would you say it started for you?”

She sighs. A caption appears on screen. It identifies her as Selene Brunner, survivor. “Being born to my mother, I suppose. I can’t remember a time before.”

Coleen reaches a hand out to place on Selene’s knee. Her voice is soft, as though she doesn’t want to be having this conversation, as though they’re friends rather than an interviewer and an interviewee. “Was there… Was there a point where you realized that something was wrong?”

“I was six.”

“Six?”

“Years old, yes.” Selene says, strong and daring. “It’s a little difficult to not realize something’s wrong when someone tries to kill you.” 


End file.
